


Embodiment

by Hours_Gone_By



Series: AU Yeah AUgust 2020 [10]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers – All Media Types
Genre: AU Yeah August 2020, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe – Reincarnation, Experimentation, Gen, Hospital, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25903738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hours_Gone_By/pseuds/Hours_Gone_By
Summary: First Aid works in a military hospital and finds himself irresistibly drawn to the a certain room in a classified wing. He can't say why he wants to see what's in there so badly, but when he finds out what it holds, it's the last thing he could have imagined.
Series: AU Yeah AUgust 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860307
Comments: 19
Kudos: 43





	Embodiment

**Author's Note:**

> Written for AU Yeah AUgust Day 10 - Reincarnation

First Aid sometimes really wished that his quarters were on a different part of the base. Their current location meant that he had to walk by the mostly closed-off wing that was alleged to be haunted. First Aid didn't believe in ghosts, and he knew that the wing was really used for military experiments of some kind, but he did admit it was really creepy. Most of it was dark and unused, and there were strange sounds and sometimes lights, often at night. He'd tried to ask Ratchet, the Chief Medical Officer, about it, but Ratchet wouldn't talk about it and told First Aid not to either.

But First Aid couldn't help being curious, and he did his best to surreptitiously look up information about what might be going on in there. He didn't have any luck, though. Everything was locked down tight and well beyond his clearance level. First Aid knew that meant he should stop and definitely should find any excuse to walk past the wing, but, well…he didn't. He didn't tell Ratchet, though he didn't exactly try to keep it a secret either. But when his assignment suddenly shifted to the opposite side of the building, it was obvious Ratchet had found out. 

Then, the war front shifted too, and suddenly First Aid was too busy to think about the experimental wing at all for several cycles.

* * *

First Aid stared at the energon dispenser with the distinctly spaced-out air of someone who'd been up for cycles straight without any recharge. The machine seemed to be taken forever, energon dripping slowly into his cube. He barely registered someone else entering, apart from noting that _they_ didn't walk like they'd been up for cycles.

"Ah, First Aid, isn't it?" the person that his lagging processors eventually identified as Pharma, the head physician of the experimental wing, said. "Just the mech I was looking for."

Pharma was less interesting than _getting his breakfast,_ but First Aid hated to be rude.

"Hello, Pharma," First Aid said, tearing himself away from the dispenser. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, it may be more what I can do for you," Pharma said, getting just a little too close for good manners. "I've noticed your curiosity about what's going on in the, heh, 'abandoned' wing. Wouldn't you like to know more? I could show you."

"I – " First Aid hesitated. He _did_ want to see what was going on in the experimental wing, but Ratchet wouldn't like it. Ratchet had put effort into keeping First Aid away from there, after all.

"Ratchet doesn't like the idea, hm?" Pharma asked, too knowingly. "I won't tell him if you won't."

First Aid nibbled at the inside of his lower lip, a nervous habit he was trying to break. "I-I don't know."

"I'm not trying to poach you away from Ratchet," Pharma said, with a chuckle that put First Aid on edge. "It would just be a visit, maybe helping out on a few tests. Not a permanent move."

"I…" First Aid thought about it. Ratchet hadn't explicitly said he wanted First Aid to stay out, and First Aid could always just ask to see the place and satisfy his curiosity. He didn't have to agree to work with Pharma in the end, after all. "Can I see where I'd be working, first? I don't have to see any of the experiments but – "

"Of course!" Pharma said jovially. "How about right now?"

First Aid needed a lot of things more than he needed a tour of a classified hospital wing, things like fuel and rest, but if he turned this down, Pharma might change his mind. It wasn't a wise thing to do, and he knew it, but he was tired enough that it was difficult to make a good decision. He grabbed his breakfast to drink on the way, and if Pharma didn't like that, well, even First Aid could get grumpy if he were hungry enough.

"Alright."

First Aid finished his energon before he was let into the secure wing, dispelling the cube just as they got to the security desk. Pharma got him a security pass that restricted from entering most of it, and they went through. The labs Pharma showed him were pretty standard, certainly not the stuff of horror movies that the hospital rumour mill had told him to expect. It _was_ interesting, but First Aid kept feeling a-a kind of _tug_ toward one of the sealed areas. The ward was marked in red, meaning First Aid and his green security pass couldn't enter, but he couldn't stop looking over at it. Pharma noticed, of course.

"Yes, well," he said apologetically. "I'm sure you'd love to see it, but I just can't let you in. Project employees only, I'm afraid."

"Yes," First Aid murmured, "of course."

That night, when First Aid finally got to go home and _recharge_ , he didn't regret having to walk by the experiment wing. He lingered, in fact, optics tracking the side of the building until he saw where the lab he'd been drawn to must be. There were steel shutters over the windows, and First Aid didn't zoom in on them, but he thought they might be welded shut. If they were, it wasn't enough to prevent some of the light spilling out around the edges like something out of a horror movie. No wonder people thought it was haunted. First Aid's systems were flashing cautions at him, though, so he couldn't stay and tore himself away.

He dreamed of light that night.

* * *

It was a few cycles before First Aid saw Pharma again, and it wasn't because the doctor came looking for him again. This time, it was because First Aid got reassigned again, and this time it came from Autobot Command, not Ratchet. Ratchet had been overridden, and First Aid had been sent to the experimental wing, reporting to Pharma.

Ratchet was not happy.

"I might not be able to undo it," he said grimly, "but I'm not letting you walk in there all alone, and if I don't like what I see, I don't care what Command has to say, I'm yanking you out of there."

"I'm sure it's fine, Ratchet," First Aid tried. "I mean, I'm just supposed to assist Pharma and Hoist."

"That might be what Pharma said," Ratchet countered, "but that doesn't mean its what he meant. Come on."

First Aid trailed after Ratchet, feeling a lot like a newbuild being escorted by an adult, all the way to the experimental wing. Ratchet had clearance, or at least was someone security wasn't going to argue with and got through with no trouble.

Pharma was expecting them.

"Hello, Ratchet," Pharma said. "First Aid, thank you for reporting to work so promptly."

"And just what are you having him work on?" Ratchet asked, folding his arms defensively. "That reassignment you charmed out of command was a little light on details."

"He's assisting Hoist and me," Pharma said patiently. "Research, experiments, helping calibrate equipment, that sort of thing. You know what assistants are for, don't you, Ratchet?"

Ratchet glared for a moment, then gave up and turned back to First Aid. "If anything you don’t like happens, Aid, comm me."

"I'm going to be fine, Ratchet," First Aid reassured him. "But I'll comm you and keep you up to date, alright?"

Ratchet still wasn't happy, but he was also busy, and First Aid wasn't in any immediate danger. Once Ratchet had gone, Pharma put his hand on First Aid's shoulder.

"Come along, First Aid," Pharma said genially, subtly pushing him forward. "Let's get you started."

* * *

First Aid hadn't met Hoist before, but he liked the genial mech right away. Pharma, on the other hand, started to put him on edge almost right away. He was always watching, paying far more attention to the fairly standard tasks First Aid was doing, and First Aid would have sworn he was counting the number of times the younger medic looked toward the closed lab. First Aid tried not to, but the pull of the place was almost magnetic. By the second cycle, he found himself wandering closer to it, almost sure he could hear people talking in there. The doors were too thick and too well sealed for him to be sure, let alone make out what they were saying. But he didn't like the way Pharma looked at him when he caught him, and so First Aid tried not to linger long.

On the third cycle, Pharma used First Aid to test some equipment. First Aid looked a little apprehensively at the leads that were meant to go over his spark chamber: they were a bit bigger than standard medical leads, and they didn't hook up to a standard spark-monitor either.

"It's just a little bulky because it's a prototype," Pharma explained. "That's all."

"It's safe, First Aid," Hoist assured him. "We've tested it before, we just need to do a calibration."

"Alright."

First Aid sat on the gurney and let Pharma and Hoist attach the leads. The scan took longer than a standard spark scan, and First Aid shifted a little uncomfortably because it gave him a weird, almost itchy, feeling around his spark even though he knew that was impossible. Pharma and Hoist conferred in low voices for a long time, and then Hoist came over to unhook him. Pharma looked oddly excited, and First Aid felt a little uneasy, not sure why, and commed Ratchet.

' _Ah…Ratchet? Something's going on, I think._ '

Ratchet's reply was immediate and reassuring. ' _Be right there, kid._ '

So that made First Aid feel better as Pharma came over, rubbing his hands.

"Well, that all went very well," Pharma said, pleased. "Now, I think it's time to show you what's in that lab you've been so curious about."

Oh! First Aid was still glad Ratchet was on the way, but he was also eager to see, finally, what was in that lab! Ratchet must have transformed and driven through the halls since he arrived just as Pharma was unlocking the lab door.

Pharma turned and scowled at him. "This is classified, Ratchet."

"Not above my clearance level," Ratchet pointed out. "And unless you have an excellent reason why I shouldn't go in, I'm accompanying my apprentice."

"I want him there," First Aid added, sure he could get Hoist on his side at least. His plea seemed to work on Pharma, too, or at least suggested to Pharma it wouldn't be worth arguing because the door was opened.

First Aid felt excited and curious to walk through those doors, wondering what he'd see. The first thing that registered was a centrally placed monitor displaying an image of an oddly segmented spark. The second was the four stasis pods lined up along the left-hand wall. First Aid was drawn to them, walking slowly along the row and looking at the faces of the mecha enclosed in them.

"Pharma," Ratchet said in a tight voice, "are you doing _spark experiments_?"

"Not precisely," Hoist said hastily, probably realizing there was an argument brewing between Ratchet and Pharma. Spark experiments were not precisely illegal but they weren't necessarily ethical. "We – well, I suppose it would be best to start from the beginning."

First Aid listened, fascinated, as Hoist explained that they had been working on an experiment to recreate the gestalt technology that had helped turn the tide of the Quintesson War. First Aid had heard of the combiners that had resulted from that technology, individual mech that could combine into a greater one. Having a gestalt team on their side would help sway things in the Autobot's favour, but they couldn't get the project up and running.

"I thought all the gestalt teams had died," First Aid said, still distracted by those four figures in stasis.

"They did," Pharma said, "but all sparks return to the Well, and sometimes they come back. We were able to find four mecha who had been part of a gestalt in a previous embodiment through comparative spark imaging, but so far, we haven't been able to successfully simulate a merge."

"There's something we've been missing," Hoist explained. "A fifth spark, at least. We've been looking so we can complete the project. We hadn't been able to find it."

"Not until I saw you hovering around the entrance to this wing, making excuses to come near here," Pharma said smugly. "Your records didn't give enough details, but once I got you in here and tested you, I knew I was right."

First Aid stared. "It's…it's _me?_ "

"Not unless you want it to be," Ratchet broke in firmly. "I care a lot more about you than I do the benefit to the war. And Hoist, Pharma, we _will_ be discussing medical ethics and privacy later. _Extensively_."

"But," First Aid said, feeling dazed, "I don't – " But he'd been drawn here, hadn't he? Toward the experimental wing, and this lab, and his… He didn't know what to call the four mecha in the stasis pods. Teammates? Sparkmates, at least of a sort? Brothers?

Brothers felt right, even if they hadn't been brought online in the same batch, even if they'd not yet met.

"And you don't have to," Ratchet assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"But…" First Aid trailed off, not sure how to explain what he felt about this. The very concept should have felt new, uncertain, but it didn't. It just…didn't.

"You're the compatible spark required to complete the gestalt," Pharma said, sounding impatient. "I don't see what all the fuss is about."

Ratchet threw the other doctor an angry glare. "Required to finish your experiment or not, First Aid still gets to _choose_. "

First Aid saw Pharma start to make a retort and broke in to stop the impending argument. "Ratchet, I'll do it."

"Excellent!" Pharma clapped his hands and must have sent a command to the lab's terminals because First Aid heard the hum of equipment starting up. "Preparations will take a little time. I want to run at least one more simulation before we begin."

"Pharma – "

"Ratchet," First Aid interrupted gently. "It's alright. It-it feels …" he trailed off momentarily at the worried look on Ratchet's face, then picked up again. "It feels right. It feels like I _belong_. I'm consenting to the procedure. I-I _want_ to do it."

Ratchet stared at First Aid for a long klik then sighed, shoulders slumping. "Alright. Alright, kid, but you're coming with me, and we're going over everything together, thoroughly, and in detail. If I see anything – _anything_ – that makes me think there's an unacceptable level of risk, you're not doing it, and Prowl himself can come down on me for it if he doesn't like it."

First Aid knew better than to push once he'd gotten this far. "Alright, Ratchet. Pharma, Hoist, since you've already started to get everything ready, what's the latest you need me by to make sure the gestalt can be completed?"

Pharma gave them an absolute maximum time of six joors and First Aid left with Ratchet. As promised, the senior doctor went over the project documentation with him in exhaustive detail. First Aid just knew Ratchet was looking for some flaw, any flaw, that would let him pull the plug, but they didn't find it. Finally, Ratchet gave up and sat back with a sigh.

"Damn," he said tiredly. "There are risks, but it's not too much worse than any other surgical procedure. Not enough to justify pulling you out of the project, especially since you have the background to really understand them and what you're agreeing to."

First Aid reached over and put his hand on top of Ratchet's. "It's okay, Ratchet. I can do this. I'm the only one who can."

"The hell of it is," Ratchet said, looking First Aid in the visor, "I think you're right, kid."

Just then, Pharma commed them with a sharp reminder that they only had a joor left and could Ratchet please just admit nothing had been missed?

' _I'm ready, Pharma_ ,' First Aid replied, patting Ratchet's hand reassuringly. "We're on our way." Ratchet hadn't been invited to observe, but First Aid didn't think anyone could stop him and was okay with that.

' _Yes, fine, Ratchet can observe, very well. Just get here, would you?_ '

"Alright, well," Ratchet said, "if you're really going to do this…"

First Aid rose, reviewing the data only having made him more determined. "I am. Let's go."

The stasis pods had retracted around their occupants, transforming into gurneys. There wasn't a gurney for First Aid, so whatever was about to happen, he should be okay to stand through it. Out of pure habit, First Aid read the designations on the charts at the ends of the gurneys: Hot Spot, Streetwise, Blades, Groove. He didn't recognize any of the names but, then again, he supposed there was no reason he would. Even if he'd known these mecha in a previous life, there was no guarantee they'd had those names. It was weird enough thinking he might have been embodied before, let alone that he might not have been First Aid.

"Is anyone going to argue more," Pharma asked snippily, clearly not happy to have Ratchet there, "or can we get started?"

"We can get started," First Aid said, and there wasn't any more discussion. Like the mecha on the gurneys, First Aid was hooked up to various monitors by Hoist while Pharma muttered over his terminal. First Aid heard the sounds of four sets of systems booting out of stasis.

Curiously, as their sparks spun up, First Aid swore he felt his own settle into a new rhythm. He felt relaxed as if something was happening that had always been meant to. It didn't take long before the optics of the mecha on the gurneys began to flicker, and they came online. Hot Spot was the first to sit up, and First Aid immediately went over to him, grateful Hoist had used remote-connected leads to monitor him rather than wired ones.

"Easy, now," First Aid said gently, putting a hand on Hot Spot's shoulder. "You've been in stasis for a while."

"I-I remember, I – did it work this time?"

"We think so, yes," First Aid said.

Hot Spot had been looking at him all along, but now he really focused in on First Aid. "I – do I know you?" Hot Spot looked at the leads dotting First Aid's chest. "You're part of the – you're not just a doctor, are you? You're our fifth. The one Pharma's been searching for."

"Yes," First Aid said because even without confirmation of Pharma's tests, he was sure now it was true. "You can just rest while we check on the others."

"No, I'm fine, I'll help. I have first-responder training."

Like Hot Spot, the other three knew they'd been in stasis and were part of an experiment looking for their missing fifth. They were only a little groggy, not having been in stasis for long. Pharma had been bringing them in and out of stasis on a semi-regular basis. One of his earlier experiments had created slight spark instabilities, which he theorized the missing fifth's presence would stabilize. First Aid was relieved Pharma hadn't located him at that point and hoped the theory was correct.

Pharma and Hoist checked readings once everyone was entirely out of stasis and standing. Grouped in a loose circle, the five mecha looked at each other. They each reached out hesitantly to touch - as if wanting to check the others were really there.

"But we're missing one," Blades said after a moment. "I mean, we're all here, but there's another – mind?"

"I know," First Aid said because he did. "I feel that too."

"Yeah, me too," Streetwise agreed. "I think there's something we need to do, though."

"You're right," Groove said thoughtfully. "We need to…merge? No. No, we need to…"

"Combine," finished Hot Spot.

It was as if the word triggered some autonomic response. First Aid felt a major transformation sequence engage, but not the one for his vehicle mode. It didn't frighten him, though. It felt right, to change like this to link with the others and feel his consciousness meld into theirs.

* * *

The sixth mech stood up and looked down at the smaller mecha below, knowing they were Autobots and mecha that he knew. One of the red-and-white ones ( _Ratchet, teacher-friend_ ) looked worried as well.

"First Aid?" Ratchet asked, and from that part of him that was First Aid, felt love and concern for the older mech. "Are you in there?"

"First Aid is here," he assured Ratchet. "He is part of me."

"Well, isn't that charming," the other red-an-white mech, Pharma ( _doctor, do not trust_ ), said.

"Who are you?" Hoist ( _doctor, coworker-friend)_ asked.

He didn't have to think about it. The answer came naturally.

"I am Defensor."

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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